The Once Was
by steiin
Summary: When they'd called him saying they'd taken custody of Nico, Will had caught the first flight available and been there within hours. On the way there he'd tried to come to terms with the fact that this was real, that finally he'd be able to see the object of his life's research in person. Now he is faced with the evidence of his existence and he almost wishes it was fake. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO**

 ** _Nico_**

He doesn't remember how he got here. He doesn't remember anything except the screaming and the blood and the " _pleasenoplease-"_

He doesn't like to think about it.

 _Here_ , is a room, small and painted such a bright shade of white that it hurts to stare at the walls for too long. The floor is gray, soft and dull. This is where his vision stays. He thinks there might be a bed and toilet shoved into the corner of the room. He doesn't care to look anymore than he has to confirm.

He spends his timed curled up on the floor. The longer he looks at it the more he can feel his mind blurring into the same soft, dull, grayness. It helps take away the noise that's dancing in his ears and the lingering echos of " _pleasepleaseyou dont haveto do this you-"_

He stops thinking about it.

He doesn't know where he is until they tell them. He can see them through the big glass window cut out in the wall, staring at him like he's an animal. He doesn't know who they are, but they look at him like they know who _he_ is. The noise crackles out through a speaker on the ceiling. He has to cover his ears because it's so loud and there's already _too much._ "Hello, do you know where you are?" one of them asks and even with his ears covered he hears them. He can't find his own voice so he shakes his head, _no, no , no, he doesn't know._ There's a soft hum and then, "Do you know who you are?" And his eyes are still on the floor and his mind is still shifting into gray and no he doesn't know. " Your name is Nico," they say and he hears _pleasenopleaseno- "_ And these are the Half blood Labs," and his world is enveloped in gray.

 ** _Will_**

He's not what Will expected.

He's heard all of the stories, of course he has. He's devoted his life to studying the anomaly that is Nico di Angelo. He's heard the facts, the grim faced reporters relaying the horror of Nico's latest conquests. "This is his 5th murder, his 6th, his 7th, 8, 10, 15, 18, 20- and there's no evidence of him having ever lain a hand on any of his victims." He knows what Nico is capable of, he knows it so well. He's seen the grainy footage of people falling dead at his feet from meters away. He's scanned and scrutinized the recordings, photos, and first-hand reports, all a testament to how dangerous Nico is.

Will knows better than _anyone_ that Nico should not be looked upon lightly. Yet it's hard, so hard to see him as a killer now that he's seeing him in person. He's small, so incredibly small, curled up on the floor of his room he barely takes up any space. He's not that short, but he's _so_ thin and the clothes they've put him in are _so_ big that he seems minuscule. He's also young, and Will knew this, but it's different to actually _see_ the youth in his face. He's only a year younger than Will who's 23, and _that's_ hard to think about. When he sees the breaths rising in his chest and the way his dark hair spills across the floor it's hard to believe that this is the most dangerous person on earth. He almost doesn't believe that this is the right person.

When they'd called him saying they'd taken custody of Nico di Angelo, Will had caught the first flight available and been there within hours. On the way there he'd tried to come to terms with the fact that this was real, that finally he'd be able to see the object of his life's research in person. Now he is faced with the evidence of his existence and he almost wants to believe it's fake.

He's been standing at the observation window for an hour just as Nico has maintained his position on the floor for an hour. Everyone around him is frantic, asking if they should bind his hands, his legs, eyes, mouth, even his ears. They don't understand like Will does that they've already taken the necessary precautions. They've wiped his memory and put him in a locked room, this is all they need. Nico is dangerous, but for the most part, he's just as human as the rest of them.

They try to talk to him but he's unresponsive. Curls even tighter around himself, covers his ears, and shakes his head. Will thinks this serves as decent proof that they've rendered him useless. He'll try talking to him again later when the rest of them leave.

He's been studying Nico di Angelo his whole life and now all he has to do is fill in the blanks.

 **AN:**

 **I'm a pretty slow writer but on the off chance someone reads this I'll try to get an update up at least once a week. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO.**

 _ **Nico**_

They slide the flattened brown squares in on a plastic tray through a slot in the door. The first time they do this is when he starts thinking about why he's here. How he's probably not a guest or a patient or an _anything_ that would assure his safety. He doesn't want to consider the leftover possibilities and what they mean. Thinking makes his brain hum in ways he's sure it shouldn't. He stops and eats the food . It doesn't taste like anything and the flat, dry, squares crumble in his mouth as soon as they touch his tongue. He washes the dust down with the small amount of water they give him.

He's never actually hungry when they slide the food in, but eating gives him something to do. Something that isn't sitting on the floor with the gray tiles or the bed with the thin mattress and staring at the ceiling. He does this a lot, stares at the ceiling. He can't remember if the brightness of the lights and whiteness of the walls lost their eye searing brilliance or if he just adjusted to the harshness. He just knows that one day he broke out of a daze and found that he'd been staring at the ceiling, unable to peel his eyes away from the cold blankness of it all. Now he does it a lot, stares at the ceiling and gets lost in his head.

His head is very loud and he's been trying to find coherency amongst the ocean of noise unfurling there. Trying to discern the whispers from the scraping and the laughing. Trying to make out the sounds that are almost(just barely) words. He mostly ignores the pleading and the crying. The sharp-as-glass screams that rise up in the middle of it all. The _whywhywhywhy_ that thrums in tune with his heart beat.

The food is always a welcome distraction, even if it doesn't taste like anything.

He tried sleeping once, learns pretty fast that it's not something he wants to do again. When he drifts out of consciousness everything goes silent. There's no voices or sounds or screaming. No dreams or thoughts or feelings. There isn't anything except him and the _nothing_ that pulses and curls around him. Pushes and pulls him deeper and deeper within itself. He thinks he's dying. He thinks he's dead. Then he wakes up.

Waking up isn't anything special. He doesn't cry out or flinch. He just wakes up and then there is _something_ and that's enough. Needless to say he only sleeps now when he has to.

He also learns almost immediately that he hates them, the people sitting behind the glass window. They just stare at him and scribble with pens on pads of paper. He can see them sometimes, talking with each other and he knows they're talking about him. It makes him as nervous as sleeping does. Sometimes they try talking to him. They ask him questions or comment on what he's doing. He tries not to listen to them, doesn't respond, looks at them as little as possible, hoping that maybe if he ignores them they'll go away. He especially can't stand it when they call him "Nico" because as much as they like to enforce the idea of that being his name he can't attach himself to it. Can't attach himself to much of anything, he just _is_. He wishes they'd tell him something useful, like how he came to be here and why. They don't. Ever.

It's because of his reluctance to sleep that he has his first and only conversation with one of them. He hasn't slept in hours or days or- _he hasn't slept_. He's sitting slouched on the bed with his back against the wall and staring at nothing. His mind feels detached from his body and his body feels detached from everything else. He's so incredibly tired and the only benefit of it is how it subdues the noise in his head so that he hears it only as a low murmur. It seems like it's grown tired with him. A noise sputters from the speakers, cracking through the lull of the low tones cascading through his mind. It takes him a moment to turn the sound to words. "If you can't sleep, we can medicate you."

His eyes flicker up to the window. There's only one of them there now, a blonde male who's resting his cheek in his hand and gazing at him through half closed blue eyes. He blames his lack of sleep on the fact that he actually responds, "don't want to." His words are quiet, having worked their way past dry lips and a thick tongue. He swallows and lets his head fall, doesn't bother to to see the blonde's reaction. Doesn't care to listen to the response that rattles into the room. He falls back on his bed and stares at the ceiling, he doesn't sleep but he isn't certain that he's awake either.

And this is how things are. He eats, tries not to sleep, ignores them, ignores the noise, eats, stays awake, uses the toilet in the rare and brief moments when none of them are watching, ignores, doesn't think, sleeps, regrets it, repeat. This is how things are, this is how things are this is- the door opens.

Footsteps fill the room and before he can register what that means there are hands on his shoulders, metal slammed around his wrists, metal digging into his head, the voices screaming to _runrunrunrunr_ \- and someone says "Stay calm, Nico. We'd like to begin today."

And suddenly he prefers sleep.

 **AN:**

I'm very sorry about the wait. I wrote this chapter, realized while editing that I hated it, rewrote it. I hope it's alright as it is now, I'm sorry it's not longer.

Thank you for any response to the first chapter of this fic, I really appreciate all of it. Thank you for reading.


End file.
